


His Sunshine

by GraySonOfGotham



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brother Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, Coma, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dick Grayson is Robin, Dick Grayson-centric, Family Fluff, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Resurrected Jason Todd, Ric Crisis Avoided, Sickfic, Song fic, Temporary Character Death, You Are My Sunshine, a lot of guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-24 13:57:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20359642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraySonOfGotham/pseuds/GraySonOfGotham
Summary: There are a handful of people that make up Dick Grayson's world.But Dick's world is very messed up and more than once in his young life, Dick thinks his world has fallen apart, but in the end, his world always seems to rebuild itself around him, whether or not he is even present to witness it.





	His Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> **Song: [You Are My Sunshine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ibENEQXnP_E&list=RDibENEQXnP_E&start_radio=1), by The Civil Wars**
> 
> This is my favorite "lullaby", but I like it for its dark lyrics. It's just so good for angst. And this version especially is extra melancholy. The song does not match up exactly with the lyrics I've chosen for the fic, but they're the same save for one verse. 
> 
> **Also, this fic is NOT in chronological order. **It has no order, actually.

** _You are my sunshine, my only sunshine._ **

Dick smiled fondly as he watched Damian chase after Tim, as fast as his shorter legs could carry him, yelling about some insignificant mistake in last night’s patrol report. Damian’s voice cracked in the middle of his insult, and his hands flew to his throat in horror.

Dick burst out laughing from where he was watching them. He made a teasing remark about Damian finally hitting puberty and possibly getting taller.

Even Tim, who had been ignoring Damian’s ranting the whole time, turned and quirked a smile. He made a snide comment about how no one is going to take Robin seriously now that he cannot yell without his voice changing pitches drastically.

Damian used some strong language, glaring at both of them, before storming out of the Cave. Dick smiled a little wider as he watched the angry teenage boy go.

** _You make me happy when skies are grey_ **

Once, Dick got severely injured and was off of patrol for three weeks while he healed up in the lonely rooms of the Manor. Dick was bedridden nearly the whole time, and while Alfred popped in and out occasionally, Dick was alone at all other times.

But then, Damian started visiting. He would bring his homework and do it at the desk in Dick’s room. Sometimes he would read a book. Once, Damian got back from patrol, and instead of going to his room to sleep, he collapsed onto the couch on the opposite side of Dick’s room and slept there.

Dick was so surprised by that act that he forced himself to get out of bed and grab a blanket for the young teen. It strained his ribs and both his broken legs protested, but Dick could not let his baby brother sleep like that.

Though there was often little conversation during Damian’s visits, Dick appreciated them very much. It made the three long weeks pass by a lot quicker.

However, they never spoke about it afterwards, and Dick never got a chance to thank Damian.

** _You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you_ **

They had argued again. Dick had watched helplessly as he tried to break them up, first trying to rationalize with Bruce, then trying to explain things to Damian. In the end, both of them had stormed off.

Bruce had taken to the streets again, even though patrol technically ended.

Damian raged all the way up to his room, kicking walls and slamming doors. Dick had been left alone in the Cave, alone save for the occasional chattering of bats somewhere in the distance.

Dick stripped out of his uniform, showered thoroughly, and then went up the dark halls of the Manor to find Damian.

The boy was in his room, curled up tightly on top of his covers, glaring at the wall.

“Go away, Grayson,” Damian grumbled.

Dick did not say anything in response. Instead, he ignored Damian’s bitter words and walked into the room, shutting the door behind him. He sat down at the edge of Damian’s bed, staring at Damian’s turned back.

He sighed softly. “I get that you’re mad at your dad,” Dick said softly. “But he’s trying, you know?” Dick chuckled quietly. “You know, you’d think four Robins in that he’d understand a little better, but that’s just Bruce. There’s no changing the way he is – stubborn and hard-headed.”

Damian did not react.

“And like father, like son,” Dick continued. Damian’s shoulders tightened a little more. “Oh, c’mon, Dami,” Dick said with a small smile. “Don’t you think this kind of tantrum at sixteen is a little dramatic?”

This made Damian uncurl and lie on his back, still glaring hard. “I am not throwing a _tantrum_,” he muttered. “Tantrums are for spoiled children who did not get enough presents on their birthday. I’m… I’m Robin.”

“Exactly,” Dick said. “And Robin sometimes disagrees with Batman, but… as much as I hate saying this, Batman has rarely been wrong with stuff like this.”

“I just wish Father would let me _explain _instead of shutting me down before even hearing me out!” Damian said in frustration, rolling over again, this time to face Dick.

Dick hummed quietly and nodded in sympathy.

Damian huffed and continued to glare at the wall behind Dick for a long time. After a stretched silence, Dick noticed that Damian’s tight muscles started relaxing. When he finally reached the mild frowning stage, Dick spoke up again.

“How about I go make some of Alfred’s cocoa, and we can watch movies?”

Damian’s green eyes flickered to look at Dick. “I am not _five_, Grayson.”

Dick snorted. “Well, you’ve glared at two walls and your ceiling, and I know from experience, there’s no better cure to Batman-induced anger than Alfred’s cocoa and a Disney marathon.”

Damian considered this for a few seconds. “Pennyworth will not be happy to find out you touched his cocoa.”

“He’ll get over it,” Dick said cheerfully, standing up. “You find the movie and grab pillows and blankets. I’ll get the cocoa and the snacks. Meet you in the theater in fifteen?”

Damian was silent for another second. He slowly pushed himself up. “Yeah,” he grunted.

Dick grinned and ruffled his hair. “See ya in fifteen, Little D!”

** _Please don’t take my sunshine away._ **

Dick failed him.

Dick had failed his little brother, the one who looked up to him, the one who started everything by his side, and now, ended everything by his side.

Except Dick was not at his side.

Dick was brushed away by Heretic like a mere piece of lint.

Dick remembered the horror of seeing Heretic pick Damian up and wrap his meaty hand around his little brother’s neck right before he cracked into the glass case and blacked out.

Dick thought Damian had never looked so small then.

But he was wrong.

Damian looked even smaller in a bloody, collapsed heap. Damian looked even smaller lying limp and lifeless in Bruce’s arms. Damian looked even smaller cleaned up and laid in a coffin, ready for burial.

If only he could have been strong enough to protect his little brother.

It was all Dick’s fault.

~

** _The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping  
I dreamed I held you in my arms_ **

Zitka’s tent smelled like straw and peanuts.

It was comforting and so familiar. It was Dick’s safe place. So many hours of every day was spent with Zitka while his parents trained or helped around the circus.

There was not much an eight-year-old could do to help around.

“You know, Zitka,” Dick said as he sank back into the straw. Zitka blinked lazily at him. “Sometime, I’m going to go see the city. At night. Because sometimes during the day, Mommy and Daddy take me to the city, and we go shopping and eat ice cream! But usually at night, I’m always helping them with their routines, or I’m here with you.”

Dick rolled over in the straw to look at his best friend. “What do you think about the city, Zitka? Have you ever seen the city before? You must have. Mommy and Daddy said you came from Africa, and I know that Africa is very, very, very far away. So you must have seen cities in Africa, I think.”

Zitka made a low trumpeting sound and reached out towards Dick, brushing her trunk against his cheek. It was her way of showing affection. Dick laughed and hugged her back.

Eventually, he fell asleep in the tent, and he lost track of time.

“Dickie? Dickie, baby?! Where are you?!”

Dick awoke with a start as he heard his name being shouted in the distance. At first, all he saw was darkness.

But then, he reached up and pushed away the burlap sack that had been placed over him. Dick sat up and yawned, rubbing his eyes.

The sun had set, and the very last weak shafts of light peeked through the tent flap. Looking around the tent, Dick realized that Zitka must have been taken back to her cage, but before going, had poured all the peanuts out of the burlap sack and put it over Dick like a blanket.

Dick smiled and pushed the sack off of him. He ran to the tent flap.

“Mommy! Daddy! I’m over here!” he shouted in the direction of his parents’ frantic calling.

Within seconds, Dick was enveloped on both sides by his sobbing mother and his worried father.

“Baby, where did you go?” his mother demanded. “We’ve been searching for you for an hour now!”

“I was in Zitka’s tent!” Dick said. “I fell asleep and lost track of time. I’m sorry, Mommy,” he said in confusion, starting to tear up because his mother was crying into his shoulder.

“I was so worried, baby,” she whispered. “But you’re safe. Thank god, you’re safe. You’re safe. You’re safe.”

Dick hugged his parents tightly and vowed never to make them worry like that again.

** _But when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken  
And I hung my head and I cried_ **

Dick awoke to the sound of his alarm blaring, signaling another start of another day.

The skies outside were unusually nice and birds chirped cheerfully outside his Bludhaven apartment window.

Fuck, it was all a dream. Again.

Dick gritted his teeth and fought back the tears that threatened to well up. He pushed his covers out of the way and made his way to the bathroom, nearly tripping over his Nightwing uniform. Dick splashed some cold water onto his face and took a few deep breaths.

And as he watched water drip off of his chin, Dick could not tell whether or not they were tears.

~

** _I'll always love you and make you happy_ **

“Oh my god, Bruce, this is so cool!”

“Dick- Dick, please don’t swing on that, that’s expensive-”

“Ahhhh! This computer is so big it’s the size of my _room_!”

“Yes, that’s delicate stuff-”

“OH MY GOD, BRUCE, YOU HAVE A PLANE IN HERE!”

“...Yes. There is a plane in here.”

“You have a plane in the Cave, in the basement of your mansion, on the hill outside of Gotham City.”

“It’s… not a basement, but yes, Dick.”

“And no one’s figured out that you’re Batman yet?”

Bruce smiled softly. “No, they haven’t. People don’t see what they don’t want to see. Now, c’mon. I want to show you your uniform.”

“I get a _uniform?_” Dick asked excitedly. “Is it going to be like yours?”

“Actually, I’ve had several uniforms made. You get to pick,” Bruce said.

“Aw, sweet!” Dick cheered. “This is the best day ever!”

Dick ended up mixing and matching, which in retrospect, was red, yellow, and green was a pretty horrid color combination, unless he was going for the stoplight look.

Still, Dick can recall with quite some clarity the absolute joy he felt on that day. Before, he was wondering and wondering if all the martial arts training Bruce was putting him through was just to make him suffer and to punish him for being an overly rambunctious kid.

Turns out, Bruce wanted him to be his sidekick, to fight by _Batman’s _side.

“Bruce,” Dick said after doing too many dizzying flips in his new Robin uniform. “You’re the best, you know that? Thank you so, so, so much!”

** _If you will only say the same_ **

“Did you see the way I handled that guy tonight, Alfie?” Dick asked excitedly as he hopped out of Batmobile, heading straight for the plate of cookies.

“Ah, ah, Master Dick,” Alfred chided.

Dick sighed and reached for a sandwich instead, taking a huge bite, struggling to swallow before continuing his story. “He had Miss Vicky at the edge of that building and a gun to her head at the edge of the building, and he was like, ‘I’m gonna kill her if you don’t hand over all my money now!’ and while B talked and kept him distracted, I swooped in, kicked the gun out of his hand, pushed Miss Vicky to safety, _and _I got him before he fell to his death! D’you see, Alfie? Huh?”

Alfred smiled fondly. “Of course. It was quite admirable, what you did.”

“No, it wasn’t, Alfred.”

Dick turned around, his smile quickly fading and his appetite waning with it. He swallowed hard as Bruce came up behind him, glaring down at him.

“It was dangerous and instinctive, what you did, Robin,” Batman said coldly. “You should not be proud of what you did. You took too many uncalculated and irresponsible risks. You are not strong enough to be moving around a grown man on your grapple. You disobeyed my direct orders to stay put.”

“But I was fine!” Dick protested. “I saw a chance, and I took it. Everyone turned out okay, right?”

“Because you were lucky,” Bruce responded flatly. “I’m benching you for a week.”

“What?!” Dick protested. “B, no, please-”

“Master Bruce-”

“It’s final, Dick. Keep arguing, and it will be a month. If you can’t listen to simple instructions, you don’t deserve to be Robin.”

“You can’t take Robin from me!” Dick yelled, starting to get angry. “Robin is _mine_!”

Bruce ignored him and walked over to the computer instead.

Dick saw red as he glare at Bruce’s back. “Why are you always so cold and distant?!” Dick demanded. “Can’t you care more about people’s lives being at stake than whether or not your orders were followed?”

Bruce said nothing.

“People could have died because of you!” Dick continued to shout.

“No,” Bruce said viciously. “I had a plan, and you didn’t follow it. If anyone died tonight, it would have been on you, Dick.”

Dick was absolutely speechless. “Me?!” he shrilled.

“Yes, _you_.”

** _But if you leave me to love another  
You'll regret it all some day_ **

It had been a very bad week for Dick. It had been a bad _month _for Dick. In fact, it had been pretty bad the entire year so far.

He had been getting into arguments with Bruce more and more often, and the Manor was usually filled with the sounds of their shouting and doors slamming and glasses breaking like it was some vicious marital dispute, not a father fighting with his adoptive son.

Dick was exhausted, and he hated all the rules Bruce still made him follow, despite him now being eighteen and old enough to know right from wrong.

That week was especially bad because Dick was benched again. For breaking some crook’s nose because he spat at Batman.

Dick was furious that he was punished for defending Bruce’s honor. And Dick had been keeping a lot of his anger to himself, just quietly suffering and suffering and suffering, and finally, Dick was at the end of the line.

Bruce brought back another boy. A rumpled, angry, tough-stuff boy from the streets named Jason.

Dick was angry that Bruce revealed his identity to the boy that very night, even after all the lectures he had given Dick about the important of keeping their identities secrets. Dick strained many friendships over the years because he refused to reveal his true face behind the mask, and now here Batman was, being the biggest hypocrite ever.

But Dick put on a smile and welcomed Jason, the boy from the streets.

Dick tried being civil. He tried reaching out to Jason. He tried understanding Bruce’s meaning behind everything.

But he could not.

Bruce paid Jason a lot of attention, even going as far as reading with the boy in the library, something he had never done with Dick. He took Jason to a Gotham Knight’s baseball game, and within a month, Jason was officially adopted as his son.

One month. That was all it took for Jason to replace Dick.

Dick was slowly drowning, screaming silently in frustration and despair, and no one was paying attention.

So he left. Dick packed his stuff up and he flipped the bird as he walked out of the Manor. Bruce just stared at his back stoically, like he did not care at all.

After all, he had another boy now. He did not need Dick Grayson anymore, and good riddance, in Dick’s opinion. Let Jason deal with Bruce’s attitude. See how much the boy admires the big old Bat after spending some time alone with him.

Because Dick was leaving. He was gone the second Jason arrived. He was just polite enough to stick around and say good-bye.

~

** _You are my sunshine, my only sunshine_ **

“Hey, Timbo,” Dick said, knocking on the door.

The teenager perked up when he saw Dick at the door. “Oh, Dick! Yeah, come in! What’s up?”

“Doing homework?” Dick asked, blinking at the messy array of stuff papers and folders all over Tim’s bed.

“Uhh… yeah!” Tim said, shuffling some papers under a textbook, which he quickly pushed behind him.

Dick’s eyes narrowed. “Homework? Or casework?”

Tim’s expression immediately became pleading. “Please don’t tell B,” he said in a low whisper. “I know he said I can’t procrastinate school with working on cases, but-”

“It’s alright,” Dick said with an easy grin. He ruffled Tim’s hair. “Just don’t get caught.”

“You won’t rat on me?” Tim asked hopefully.

“Of course not,” Dick said with a laugh. “Besides, it’s a Robin’s job to piss Batman off sometimes.”

“You pissed Bruce off?” Tim asked in awe.

“All the time,” Dick laughed. “We fought day in and day out. Sometimes, there were weeks were we just couldn’t stand each other’s presence and avoided each other like the plague. Those were the calm weeks.”

Tim whistled quietly. “Wow,” he said. “I can’t imagine you arguing with Bruce. You guys get along so well.”

Dick’s smile faded a little. “Now we do,” he said quietly. “But not before…”

Tim looked down with a wince. “Before Jason died,” he said in an apologetic voice.

“Hey,” Dick said. He sat down next to Tim on the bed, moving some papers over. “It’s alright. There’s nothing you can do about it. Heck, you didn’t even know Jason and you feel bad.”

“I know, I just- He’s dead, and- and I just took his place. Like he didn’t exist in the first place,” Tim said worriedly.

“No, you’re not taking his place, Timbo,” Dick said gently. “Jason’s his own Robin, and you are yours. The mantle might be the same, but the person behind the mask is different and all of Gotham knows it. Don’t beat yourself up about it, kiddo.”

Tim’s eyes flickered up to Dick’s. When Dick smiled at him, Tim smiled tentatively as well. “Okay,” he said. “Thanks, Dick.”

Dick opened his arms, and Tim accepted the hug. “Sure thing,” Dick said. “You ever need anything, I’m here for you.”

Because Dick was not going to make the same mistake he made with Jason again.

** _You make me happy when skies are grey_ **

It was raining hard, but Dick barely felt the cold wet drops on his skin.

He was kneeling at Jason’s grave again, like he usually does every other week, or when he was feeling particularly guilty.

Dick was rambling about how his week, telling Jason about what had happened around the Manor. He does this often, trying to get himself used to the idea that Jason was dead.

Dick had just started getting close to Jason, finally getting past the walls that Jason had built when he died. And Dick felt that it was partially his fault in some way, so he was still trying to make up for it, even though Dick knew that it would never really elevate his guilt.

The rain had come suddenly.

One second, it was clear, and the next, the storm clouds had rolled in, and Dick was drenched. But like a switch, his mood darkened too, and the guilt he was trying to keep at bay suddenly came sweeping in.

So Dick kept kneeling there, letting the rain soak him as he quietly sobbed apologies to the tombstone.

“Dick!”

The sound of wet footsteps running towards him from behind made Dick looked up and turn.

“What the hell are you doing out here in this weather?” Tim demanded, grabbing his wrist and pulling him to his feet. “Hold the umbrella,” he said, shoving the black umbrella into Dick’s hands.

Dick’s numb fingers wrapped around the umbrella, and he could help but feel like he was at Jason’s funeral all over again. It was raining that day too.

“He’s gone, Tim,” Dick said in an empty voice. “I couldn’t save him.”

“No one could have,” Tim murmured, looking down at the gravestone.

They stood there in silence for a while again, lost in their own thoughts respectively.

“C’mon, let’s go home, Dick,” Tim said. “I’ll get Alfred to make you some tea and we can talk, okay?”

“Yeah,” Dick said. “Okay.”

He let Tim lead him away.

** _You'll never know, dear, how much I love you  
Please don't take my sunshine away_ **

“Where’s Tim?” Dick demanded, his breathing labored. “Bruce. Where. Is. _Tim_.”

Bruce did not look at him.

“You fucking answer me, Bruce Wayne!” Dick shouted hysterically. “Where is my brother?! Where is he?!”

“Gone.”

Dick’s heart dropped when he heard that word, his worst fears confirmed. “Gone. Gone on a trip? Gone away for school? What’s ‘gone’, old man?”

“He saved Gotham. Now he’s gone.”

“Oh my god,” Dick said in a horrified whisper. “You killed him. You- You- He’s _dead _because of you!”

Bruce did not answer.

Of course, Dick knew it was not directly Bruce’s fault. Bruce would do everything in his power to ensure than no harm came to any of his kids if he could. But he cannot. So he just takes the blame for it instead. And Dick let him.

“No, no, he’s not dead, B,” Dick said. “He can’t be dead. Not- Not after Jason, not after Damian- he can’t-”

“Stop it, Dick,” Bruce growled. “He’s dead, and there’s nothing you can do about it!”

Bruce disappeared to brood somewhere with a sweep of his cape, leaving Dick to collapse to the floor and deal with the gravity of the news by himself.

Death.

It was something that Dick dealt with on a near daily basis. But even so, he was no more desensitized than people who had never encountered death before.

When Jason died, Dick promised to protect Tim and make sure nothing like what happened to Jason would happen to any future Robin again. And for so many years, Dick managed so well.

Damian came alone, and Dick made it his mission to protect Damian as well.

Then Jason came back, and Dick felt like he had been given a second chance. Dick’s second chance that he refused to waste.

But even after all the effort Dick put into protecting his family, even going as far as faking his death after his identity was revealed, it still was not enough.

Damian had died. Bruce had died. And now, Tim was dead too.

Dick had gotten lucky so many times before, but who was to say that Tim was going to get another chance as well?

Tears blurred his vision, and Dick let out a sob.

“Not you too…” he whispered.

~

** _You told me once, dear, you really loved me_ **

“G’mornin’,” Dick whispered hoarsely, blinking open his tired eyes.

He was greeted with an equally tired face. “Good morning, Dickie,” Jason whispered.

Dick smiled and closed his eyes again, burrowing a bit closer to his boyfriend under the covers. “’s too early. Let’s go back to sleep.”

Jason laughed quietly. “Not a good idea, baby,” he said. “We’ll never get out of bed otherwise.”

“Just five more minutes.” Dick wrapped his arms around Jason and pulled himself even closer.

“Five more minutes,” Jason relented. “Then I have to get up and make breakfast. Otherwise, who knows what crap you’ll end up eating.”

“Cereal?” Dick laughed into Jason’s shoulder.

“No, it’s pure sugar. No nutrients at all,” Jason grumbled. “Absolute shit.”

“Meanie,” Dick said without any heat in the insult. It was much more fond that accusatory. “I love you, Jay.”

Jason laughed quietly, his breath ruffling Dick’s hair. “I know. And I love you too, Dickie.”

** _And no one else could come between_ **

“We are in a public setting,” Damian grumbled. “In a restaurant. Can you please refrain from the disgusting public displays of affection?”

Dick laughed and swung his legs over Jason’s lap. “What do you mean, Dami? I’m just hugging him.”

“People are staring because you’re sitting in his lap even though there’s an unoccupied seat right there, and you are both wearing sunglasses indoors.”

“Hey,” Dick said, leaning in and lowering his sunglasses a little. “Jay and I are both technically dead, okay? What do you think people will say when two supposedly dead people are suddenly walking around? It’ll attract a lot of attention, don’t you think?”

“You do enough of that yourselves,” Damian muttered.

“Hey, shut it, brat,” Jason said. “I bought you ice cream.”

Damian gave Jason a halfhearted glare, but ate his ice cream in silence without any more complaints.

It was a lost argument anyway. Dick and Jason were inseparable for some strange reason. Damian and Tim had once ganged up on Jason together, grilling him about his intentions with Dick.

They even threatened him by taking away his favorite guns, Dick later found out (he thought this to be very funny). But even when they did that, Jason, after much deliberation, admitted that he would let them have his guns if they would just leave him alone to be with Dick.

They kept his guns for a month, and while Jason was very upset with them, he seemed to be telling the truth. He meant no ill will.

So Damian and Tim gave Jason his guns back, and they spent a week’s watching each other’s backs in case the Red Hood tried to shoot one of them.

** _But now you've left me and love another_ **

“Jay? You home?”

Dick stepped into the apartment, and he immediately knew that it was empty. Just like it was the day before. And the day before that.

In fact, Dick had not seen Jason in over a month.

Sure, Jason had mentioned to Dick that he was going to be away on a mission for a bit. But Dick thought “a bit” meant a week, two at most. But nearly a month and a half later, Dick has not even heard a whisper from his boyfriend.

Dick was trying not be worried. He was trying not be paranoid. He was trying to trust Jason and trust that he was safe.

Dick took a shower alone with the water freezing cold because Jason preferred his showers cold. Then, when he stepped out of the shower, Dick took a second to shave, and he put on Jason’s aftershave instead of his own.

When Dick entered their bedroom, he eyed his uniform, which lay in a crumpled heap on the ground. Usually, Dick would have left it there, but he could nearly hear Jason’s exasperated sigh as he bends down to pick up Dick’s dirty laundry. Dick picked up his uniform and hung it up in the closet, like Jason would have.

Then, Dick ate two bowls of cereal before climbing into his empty bed and falling asleep.

The next night was the exact same. So was the one after that.

But two months after Jason’s disappearance, Dick came back to the shower running and take out on the kitchen table. Dick’s heart did a flip, and he willed himself not to barge into the bathroom right then and there.

He waited patiently for ten minutes. Jason came out of the shower with a puff of steam, which surprised Dick a bit. Jason only took hot showers when Dick was with him. Maybe his preferences changed in the time he went away. 

“Oh, hey,” Jason said, giving him that crooked smile that Dick fell in love it.

“Hi, Jay,” Dick said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re back.”

“Yup. Only for tonight though. Just passing through town, thought I’d stop by and bring you some actual food because I know what trash you’ve been eating.”

“You’re- You’re leaving again?” Dick asked in shock. “But you just came back-”

Jason laughed. “Just passing through to steal your shower, Dickhead,” he said. “And I forgot my aftershave last time, so I’m just going to grab that too. I’ll be back soon.” He kissed Dick on the forehead and sauntered out of the room naked.

Dick was too stunned to react. He heard Jason getting dressed in the living room and humming as he did so.

“Okay, I gotta go now, Dickie! Eat the food I brought you, okay? Byeeee!”

** _You have shattered all my dreams_ **

Dick knew he was being petty, but another week passed, and he was done. He changed all the locks in his apartment, put all of Jason’s things into the guest room, purchased new sheets for his bed, bought ten bottles of Jason's least favorite alcohol, and then went home and sobbed himself to sleep.

~

_ **You are my sunshine, my only sunshine** _  
_ ** You make me happy when skies are grey** _  
_ ** You'll never know dear, how much I love you** _  
_ **Please don't take my sunshine away** _

A door slammed somewhere in the distance. It was muffled and foggy, and Dick had no idea which direction it was coming from.

“Hey! What did I say about slamming doors, Todd?!”

That voice was familiar. It brought feelings of fondness. It was funny that an angry voice could make someone feel fond.

Another door slammed, closer.

Then, a door opened, and suddenly, the sounds were clearer.

“Oh my god, Jason,” a second voice said. “Why do you do you aggravate him like this?”

This voice was familiar too. More feelings of fondness followed it. Dick wanted to see who was speaking.

“Then he shouldn’t make himself so fun to anger. He knows I love pissing him off,” yet a third voice chuckled.

This voice was so comforting, and Dick felt a sudden surge of love rush through him. Who were these voices? Why were they here? Where was here anyway?

Suddenly, something touched him. Dick could feel it. Touched his hand. It was another hand. Someone else’s hand had taken his and was rubbing circles into his palm.

“Hey, Dickie,” the third voice murmured. “How are you feeling today?”

There was pause, like the third voice was wanting Dick to answer. And Dick wanted to answer. He wanted to answer so badly, but he had no idea who was asking the question, nor could he make himself speak.

“I miss you, Dickie,” the voice said quietly. “We all miss you, so much. I know I say this every day, and I don’t know if you’re listening or not, but we really do miss you a lot, Dickiebird. It’s just not the same without you.”

Dick wondered where he had gone to make this voice sound so pained when talking to him. Dick was right here, was he not? He was listening, and though he did not recall anyone saying that to him every day, but Dick had no reason to doubt the voice. Dick liked the voice very much. His body told him the voice was a safe space. The voice would protect him.

“Please come back to us,” the voice whispered. Dick’s hand was moved to a cheek, slightly stubbled. “We need you here, Dickie. Leslie said that even if you do come to, there’s a great chance you won’t remember any of us, but… even if that’s the case, I would rather have that than not have you at all.”

“Jason…” The second voice sounded saddened too, but not as soul-wrenching as the third voice.

There was a long silence, and Dick felt his hand being squeezed closer to the cheek. Sometimes, he felt drops of wetness at his fingertips.

“We should not dote on him like this every day.” It was the first voice, much clearer than before. They must be in the room as well now. “Grayson would not have wanted us to crowd by his bedside and wait helplessly for him.”

“What else am I to do, Damian?” the third voice asked painfully. “I can barely do anything without him. I- I can’t watch him like this, but I can’t bring myself to _not _see him every single day.”

There was no response to the third voice.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve talked to him?” the third voice asked hollowly. “Three months.”

“Three-” the second voice sputtered. “But he’s only been in a comatose for four weeks!”

“I know,” the third voice said. “I… I was busy, and I did not give it much thought to even call him to hear his voice because I knew he was busy too. And now I may never get to talk to him again.”

“Don’t say that,” the second voice said with a touch of desperation. “Our Dick clings to life. He won’t-He won’t die on us... Right?”

No one confirmed or denied this either.

Dick was very confused. Was he dead? The second voice had mentioned a coma, but Dick had no recollection of what had happened to land him in such a state. Dick worked desperately to cry out and ask. But his body refused to respond.

Eventually, the three voices left the room, shutting the door quietly behind them.

And that was when Dick gave up his useless shouting and succumbed to waiting listlessly.

Many, many hours later, the door opened again. Dick assumed someone came in because he heard a soft sigh as someone sat down heavily. There was a long moment of silence.

Then, someone said, “I’m sorry, Dick.”

Yet another familiar voice without an owner. This was getting very tiring.

Dick waited for the voice to say more, straining to hear anything. But they said nothing. A few more minutes passed, and then the door opened and closed again.

But not five minutes after the door closed, it opened yet again.

Someone shuffled towards him. Dick felt his arm being lifted and something soft was placed in the crook of his arm.

“Father said this was your favorite toy as a child.” Dick recognized the first voice from before, still gruff, but much less angry now. “You named it Zitka. Alfred found it yesterday, and I thought you would like something to keep you company.” The voice snorted quietly. “I think it is a dumb idea to have a fake animal to keep you company. But Drake claims that some people are very fond of their stuffed animals. Whatever. I have Pennyworth.”

Alfred? What did Alfred have to do with stuffed animals? Dick recalled a murky memory of the man, his thinning hair and his consistently kind smile.

Dick wanted to smile at the thought, but of course, his body did not listen to him.

Then, the voice broke through his thoughts again. “I must go now. Todd will be coming up soon, and he is especially possessive of you nowadays,” the voice said bitterly. “He is trying to make up for the guilt he feels. He deserves to feel guilty,” the voice continued, growing angrier.

Dick wondered what made the owner of this young voice so bitter. Aside from this “Todd” figure, of course.

“If Todd had not been so ignorant, perhaps…”

The voice never finished their sentence because they left the room quickly and shut the door behind them.

Dick did not even get a second to process what the young voice had said before the door opened for the third time in fifteen minutes. Dick prepared himself for another monologue. Or perhaps another terse sentence.

But instead, the bed he was lying on dipped, and someone climbed onto the bed beside him.

There was a quiet chuckle by his ear. “I see the brat listened and gave you Zitka,” the voice murmured. It was the voice that Dick fell in love with earlier. Or perhaps he was already in love it. Dick was not so sure.

There was a prolonged silence as Dick waited patiently for the voice to keep speaking. “Bruce would kill me if he knew I was sneaking in to see you every night like this. It would be fun, disobeying the old man, if it were not for the fact that I’m doing it because I can’t sleep without you, Dickie. Fuck, I’ve tried sleeping pills and alcohol and I even let the brat hypnotize me, but…” the voice trailed off, and Dick could feel their despair again. Dick wanted to help them so badly. “I need you, Dick. I love you and I need you so badly. I never realized how much I need you until now, and…”

Dick strained so hard to answer. To comfort. To reassure that he was there, that he was listening, and he wanted to come back to wherever the voice was. He wanted to stop their pain and suffering, soothe the wounds in their heart.

“Please,” the voice whispered right by Dick’s ear. “Heaven. God. Somebody. Please don’t take him away.”

Dick felt twin drops of wetness land on his neck. Tears, he realized with a start. The person was crying. Now and before as well.

Dick wanted to cry too. He could not help this person who cared so much for him. Dick could not recognize them.

They loved him. And even though Dick did not know for sure who they were, Dick loved them too. Dick loved all of them, all of the voices he had been hearing all day. But especially this one.

This voice...

This familiar, familiar... voice.

The voice that belonged to someone special and dear to him.

The one named... Jason Todd.

~

Dick’s eyelids were leaden and so fucking heavy. It took so much effort for him to blink them open to the dark room.

He felt so tired, so drained. He just wanted to go back to sleep, but he felt like he had been sleeping forever. Dick turned his head, wrinkling his nose slightly in discomfort as his nose brushed against something.

It was a head of hair.

Suddenly, Dick remembered the past day where he spent locked up in his own head without any control over his body, just listening to the voices around him.

And god, they were coming to him now.

Damian.

Tim.

Bruce.

And Jason. Dick’s Jason.

Jason was back. Jason came back for him.

Dick snuggled closer and closed his eyes in relief. He was okay. He had Jason. He had his brothers. And he was okay.

~

The next morning, Dick awoke to Jason stirring in his arms.

“Oh, fuck,” he heard Jason said. “Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered over and over again, sitting up. “Oh, B is gonna kill me for sure now.”

Dick blinked his eyes open to see Jason fumbling with the breathing tube that Dick had pulled out of his own nose not too long ago.

“Please don’t put that back in me,” Dick groaned, his voice raspy from disuse.

“I have to!” Jason said in a panicked voice. “He’s going to think I’m _trying _to-”

Jason’s eyes went wide as he comprehended the fact that Dick just spoke to him. And that he was staring up at him, blinking tiredly.

“G’morning, Jay,” Dick whispered, trying for a smile.

Dick watched in slight horror as Jason’s eyes flooded with tears. Then, a sob escaped his lips. Then, Jason collapsed onto the floor next to Dick’s bed, his head buried in the bed and crying softly.

Dick chuckled a sickly laugh and put a hand on Jason’s trembling head. “I’ve missed you too, Jaybird.”

~

Within the next hour, Dick’s room was flooded with visitors. Jason refused to leave his side, even for Leslie to check up on Dick.

However, Leslie was stunned to announce that Dick seemed to be perfectly fine, except for a few gaps in his memory in the days leading up to his accident (turns out he was shot through the head, and now he has no hair).

Dick was put into a wheelchair due to muscle atrophy, but Damian announced that he would help Dick exercise and regain whatever muscle mass he lost during those weeks in a coma.

Tim shadowed Leslie the whole time, checking and double checking everything Leslie did. Dick could tell that Leslie was a little peeved, but she said nothing. Bruce also shadowed her every move, but much more subtly.

After she left, Dick was bombarded with questions: What did he remember? Was he conscious during his coma? Could he hear them? What happened during his coma? Flashbacks, flashbacks of what exactly? Why was he reliving all the lowest points of his life?

Thankfully, Alfred shooed everyone but Jason out to let Dick breathe.

“Wow,” Dick said with a glowing smile when everyone left. “It’s like my five minutes of socialite life all over again.”

Jason gave him a tight smile.

“What?” Dick asked, concerned.

“Dickie,” Jason said. “I’m sorry. About… before. I wasn’t there for you. I… I practically abandoned you for months and then you got _shot_, and I thought you were going to die for sure, and-” Jason shook his head. “I’ve just had a lot of time for reflecting and feeling guilty this past month.”

“It’s okay, Jay,” Dick assured. “I forgive you. You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”

Jason shook his head. “How can you just forgive me like that? I basically left you.”

“You make me so happy, Jason,” Dick said. “I’ll _always _forgive you.”

“Dickie…”

“I love you, Jason. I love you so, so much.”

Jason lurched forward and hugged Dick tightly. “Oh god, Dickie,” he mumbled into Dick’s neck. “I love you so much too. Please don’t ever leave me again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thank you all so much for reading this. I hope you enjoyed despite it being a bit sad. I'm not really fond of songfics, but I have always wanted to write a fic for You Are My Sunshine. It's just... so good. I love the song so much, especially this version of it, if you heard the song I linked at the top of the fic. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you all again! <3


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